What My Mother Called Me
by Rosebud5
Summary: "They also call me Jack Kelly, which is what my mother called me." As a little boy, Francis Sullivan is closer to his mother, Kelly, than anyone in the world. And his favorite story she tells him is about a cowboy named Jack, who he wants to be just like.


Hey all! I keep getting ideas for _Newsies _one-shots! Never fear, _Baby, Oh, Baby! _is still very much alive, but I HAD to write this before the idea went away. I got the idea from Brooklyn's Miracle's story To be a Man. OMG, it's so amazing and I demand you go read it RIGHT NOW...after you read and review this one-shot. lol

But hey, I'm out of school today due to snow, so I most likely will be writing A LOT and updating A LOT. So. Yes. Love me some snow days.

HAPPY LATE BIRTHDAY, CHRISTIAN BALE!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, guys. Except this story line.

~Rosey

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**What My Mother Called Me  
**

Kelly Sullivan hummed quietly to herself as she stirred the soup in the huge kettle before her, her strawberry-blonde hair hanging long and straight down her back and her brown eyes shimmering with life as they always did. She turned from the pot to look out the window into the streets of New York City, so dark and cold compared to Ireland's green hills where she had grown up. But only four years ago she had moved out here to New York with her husband Jeffery in hopes for a new start for both them and their tiny son Francis. Jeffery loved her more than anything, and she knew that. But she also knew he never wanted a son to begin with. And the way he turned from the little Francis Sullivan pained her deeply.

Of course, New York wasn't as far as she would have liked to go in America...no, she wanted to go to Santa Fe more than anything. But New York was cheaper and more accessible. So they were stuck there until there was enough money to go to that dreamland called Santa Fe.

"Watcha makin', Mommy?" Kelly turned around to face her son as he bounded into the room, his messy brown hair falling into his eyes.

"Bean soup, love," she smiled, leaning down to Francis and picking him up with ease. "Your favorite."

"My favorite is cookies," Francis beamed in his mother's arms. "The chocolate-chip ones."

Kelly smiled, putting her son down and turning off the stove where the soup was bubbling. "I'll make some of those later for you then, Francis Sullivan. In the mean time, would you like me to tell you a story?"

"Yeah!" Francis smiled widely. His mother was the best story-teller in the world through his four-year-old eyes, and her tales were always about some magical place called Santa Fe, where she promised they would go one day. "Tell me the one about Cowboy Jack! That's my favorite," Francis grinned widely.

Kelly giggled, sitting down in a kitchen chair and pulling her son into her lap. "Cowboy Jack it is, then," she began. "Alright, once upon a time there was a cowboy named Jack. He lived in a wonderful place called-"

"Santa Fe!" Francis beamed. "And he was the best cowboy in Santa Fe, right Mama?"

"Right, love," Kelly nodded. "Now, Cowboy Jack was in love with the Sheriff's daughter, Clara. However, she had promised never to fall for a cow-poke like Jack. But then one day an evil cowboy came to town, and his name was-"

"Old Man Allen," Francis said the name with such disgust his mother laughed heartily.

"Yes, Old Man Allen. And do you know what he did?" Kelly rose an eye-brow.

"He held up the bank and took all the money and then stole a horse and rode out of town!" Francis bounced up and down excitedly. "And then Cowboy Jack rode after him, right Mama?"

"Right," Kelly nodded. "And Cowboy Jack found him in a desert many miles out of town, and you know what he did?"

"Said 'Stick 'em up, Old Man, if ya know what's good for ya,'" Francis said in a gravelly voice, imitating Cowboy Jack.

"But did Old Man Allen stick 'em up?" Kelly asked, shaking her head.

"Nope. He said 'You're just a kid, I don't have to do nothin' you say,'" Francis quoted.

"But what did Cowboy Jack say?" Kelly smiled at her son.

"'I must have you pretty scared, Old Man,'" Francis beamed. "And then-"

"Cowboy Jack beat Old Man Allen in a shoot-out, and Jack rode back into town a hero, with the money and the horse Old Man Allen stole. Once he returned to town Clara fell in love with him and they lived happily ever after," Kelly finished with a smile, kissing her son on the top of his head.

"That's a great story, Mama," Francis grinned, burying his head under his mother's chin. "I want to be just like Jack one day."

Kelly thought for a moment before reaching into her pocket and pulling out a faded red bandanna, gently tying it around her son's neck. "Here. My father gave this to me when I was a little lassie, and that was also the day he told me about Santa Fe. I bet Cowboy Jack wore a bandanna just like this one, yes?"

"Yeah!" Francis jumped up and down in joy. "Thank you, Mommy! I love it and I'll never take it off! Never ever ever!"

"I'm glad you like it, Francis," she hugged her son close.

"Jack," Francis corrected her seriously.

"Jack," Kelly giggled.

Suddenly, the door opened and Jeffery Sullivan entered, home form work. Francis leapt up off his mother lap and ran over to his father, bouncing up and down excitedly. "Looky, Daddy! I'm Cowboy Jack!"

"Don't be silly, Francis," Jeffery scolded, pushing past Francis to get to Kelly, kissing her on the head. "You must stop filling his mind with foolishness, Kelly Sullivan."

"It's just a story, Jeff," Kelly insisted gently, gesturing to Francis. "Play along," she added under her breath to her husband.

"I won't feed his imagination. My son will not be a dreamer," Jeffery said harshly, going to his room and slamming the door. Francis bit his lip as tears stung his eyes and he ran into his mother's embrace, never wanting to let go.

_Thirteen Years Later_

Jack Kelly, better known among his friends as Cowboy, stashed the last of his money he had earned that day as a Newsie into a small tin box he kept hidden behind a loose brick in the washroom of the News Boys Boarding House. Inside the tin box was a faded old photograph of himself as a tiny boy with his mom on his right side and his dad on his left. His mother's smile was as wide as his had been, yet his father was scowling into the camera. Jack sighed and returned the photo to the box. Well those days were over now, anyway. His mother was dead from influenza and his father was in prison for child abuse. Jack shivered, but forced those thoughts out of his mind. He fingered the red bandanna around his neck, a small smile playing on his lips. So his father didn't want him to become Cowboy Jack, huh? Well, too bad and too late. Closing the tin box's lid, he slid it back into the wall and put the brick back in place, and then leaned up against the porcelain basin.

"I'll get to Santa Fe for ya soon, Mom," he whispered quietly. "Your little Cowboy Jack ain't one to give up."

And that very night, only blocks away, Joseph Pulitzer was jacking up the prices of the newspapers, and tomorrow the world would know.

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Well that's the end, folks! That's just my opinion of how Jack Kelly became Jack Kelly...I thought "What if Jack wasn't lying when he said his mother called him 'Jack'?" And this came out. I hope you all liked it! Oh, and the very last part is based off a scene from the original script of _Newsies _where Jack did indeed have an old photograph of his family hidden in a tin box behind a loose brick in the washroom.

Please review? It means a lot.

~Rosey


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